


We Don't Need A Reason Why

by Kunfetti



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, PTSD, hospital visits, implied krolia/kolivan, implied shiro/matt, injuries, james/keith main focus, keith pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunfetti/pseuds/Kunfetti
Summary: The morning of the final battle that will dictate Earth's last defense against the Galra is an emotional one.





	We Don't Need A Reason Why

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, this fic was inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ey_hgKCCYU4). Give it a listen. 
> 
> Also, this fic is like the spiritual sequel to [For What It's Worth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706608).
> 
> This was beta read by the amazing Eilera.

****

**Final day : 0530**

 

Months have passed since Keith propositioned him in his room. Or at least, that’s how James defined what happened. He knows Keith had come by to put their past behind them, to move on. James whole world was shaken when Keith arrived, and it did a complete 180 when Keith laid down terms for their relationship. James accepted wholeheartedly. He wasn’t above admitting he still had residual feelings of their past relationship. He just kept them in a place where they could be cherished, undisturbed by the everyday challenges of life, or the people that came in and out of it. He had moved past it, but kept it close, because it was special to him. No one had been able to take it away, replace it, or make him forget it. 

 

Lying next to Keith, his arm wrapped securely around his waist, he was glad he kept it so close to his heart. 

 

They were both awake, probably have been for hours. James was, at least, but he wasn’t aware of what time Keith’s steady even breaths changed and they just laid there, embraced in each other. It was the calm before the storm. Today was the day, the final battle. Intelligence had confirmed the arrival of the last remaining Galra entering Earth’s orbit later this afternoon with, who James hoped, was the last big baddie they’d have to fight. These were the last few hours before everyone suited up, manned battle stations, and put up the last fight for Earth. 

 

It was a bitter moment for James. 

 

Just thinking about it made the acid in his stomach bubble. He nuzzled into the back of Keith’s neck, inhaling his scent and trying to permanently ingrain Keith in his brain in case this was the last time they were together. 

 

James wanted to beg Keith to stay back, to stay safe. Hypocritical, he knows. But he was given such a short amount of time with Keith, he felt he was allowed to be petuchulant about it. He has never given anyone what he has given Keith; his time, his energy, his body...his heart. He was on the edge of falling and he didn’t want a handhold. He wanted to dive deep into it, to let it over take him and bring him places only Keith could provide. If they were given the time, of course. If they both made it out alive. 

 

“Tell me, Keith,” He whispers into the back of Keith’s neck, “Do you wish we’d fall in love?”

 

He feels Keith take a deep breath before turning slowly in his arms. He can barely make out Keith’s bright eyes in the dark of the early morning, but he can feel Keith’s breath ghost along his face. It’s a comforting gesture Keith offers when he places a chaste kiss to his lips, his hand finding its place over his heart. James is certain Keith can feel how hard it beats in his chest. 

 

“I don’t have to wish.” Keith breathes sincerely between them and it’s too much. The fact they are even here at all, it’s  _ unfair _ . They’re a product of a war that was brought to their front door. 

James’ strength leaves him and he hides his face in his pillow as the first quiet tears fall down his cheeks. It’s shameful and James’ chest burns because he’s  _ crying _ in front of Keith, sobbing hard enough that his body shakes with the effort. 

 

“James.” Keith prods gently, his hand cupping James’ cheek and using his thumb to wipe away tears. James ignores him, pushing further into his pillow but also gripping Keith’s waist tighter to try and keep him grounded. 

 

“James.” Keith tries again, gasping and louder. James looks over this time, hearing the despair in Keith’s voice. He’s not crying but his eyes and nose are rosy. The fingertips on his face dig gently into his skin and Keith declares, “When the battle is over, find me. I will be waiting.”

 

“But what if—“

 

“Find me,” Keith urges, cutting off James’  _ what if _ because what ifs aren’t why they are about, “When you do, I’ll tell you what I wish for.”

 

James nods, sniffling. Keith is smiling sadly at him, he knows the stakes, what’s at risk. He hides all of his fear for James, because he had to be the one to break.  _ Idiot, _ he thinks. He didn’t want what could be the last moments he’d ever spend with Keith crying like a baby. Yet, here he is, wiping his face into his pillow so Keith’s last memory of him isn’t one where he’s covered in snot. 

 

Keith doesn’t seem to care, and he moves closer, kissing James like he’s air to breathe. James holds onto Keith, using his hands one last time to trace the planes of his body, as he returns the kiss full fervour. If he has to wait for Keith’s admission, he’ll hold his own, but God forbid he won’t tell him with every inch of his body. 

 

\---

 

**Final day : 0700**

 

The energy in the air is enough to have Matt itching to move. His body is thrumming so he keeps himself busy going over battle strategies, sending messages to other rebel officers, and triple checking his weapons cache, all the while, keeping a close eye on the clock. With the last Galra threat looming over them, Matt wants to make sure he has no regrets. He’s lived a good life, even his time in captivity has made him stronger. He’s together with his family, he’s a viable member of the Rebel Coalition. He’s smart and has used his skills to benefit the human race. The only thing left for him is to stop hiding behind his and Shiro’s friendship and just tell the man how he feels. How he’s felt for a long time. 

 

Easier said than done. 

 

He’s been trying to find the right moment to tell Shiro of his feelings but the time has never been right. He can’t just blurt his feelings during briefings and when Shiro has any free time, he spends it at the memorial. 

 

Matt has respected Shiro’s privacy but he’s heard rumors that the new captain of the Atlas grieves almost daily. Recounting his day to a ghost, or staring silently at Adam’s photo. No one dares bring it up, who were they to judge how Shiro mourned, but Matt worried for his friend. 

 

And felt like a douchebag for wanting to burden Shiro with his feelings when Shiro clearly didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to move on. 

 

Not that Matt thought he had much of a chance. The last few years of their relationship were complicated at best, if there was any miracle Shiro had feelings for him, Matt would be surprised. For Matt it was easy, he’s been carrying a torch for Shiro since before they left for Kerberos. 

 

Shiro would probably disagree, but he was a very predictable man and Matt figured out his schedule after just a few days of observation. That’s why, when the alarm he set on his clock went off, he knew exactly where to find Shiro. 

 

Walking through the Garrison halls, Matt tries to stop from backing out of his choice to tell Shiro.  _ No regrets _ , he reminds himself. And not telling Shiro was the last thing he wants hanging over him in the afterlife. He pushes his long hair from his eyes, waving hello or sending small greetings to cadets and officers passing by. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest but a Holt is nothing if not determined. 

 

At the entrance to the memorial, he takes a moment to take a deep breath, hoping he hasn’t beaten Shiro here. 

 

He pushes the double doors open, spotting Shiro’s outline easily against the illuminated wall of memorium. 

 

“Hey Shiro.” He calls in greeting. It takes a moment for Shiro to acknowledge him, like maybe he was lost in thought and Matt suddenly feels his stomach clench in response to disturbing him.

 

“Hi Matt, you’re up early.” Shiro says, a soft smile on his face, easily pretending that everything is ok. 

 

“Well you know, big day and all.” He jokes waving his hands with sarcastic flair. Shiro chuckles and Matt revels in a job well done. Although, the laughter dies easily under the weight of the approaching battle and the air quickly grows uncomfortably awkward.

 

“So, what brings you to the memorial?” Shiro asks, turning away from the eyes of the dead to give Matt his full attention.

 

“I came here to see you actually.” He admits, but his eyes flick over the memorial. All at once he feels the pressure of faces he knows and some he doesn’t staring back at them. 

 

“Me?” The way Shiro’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion wasn’t lost to Matt, yet he was finding his resolve slipping. 

 

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you…” His eyes drift away, finding the white lillies decorating the memorial. The petals sway slightly with the movement of air, “To tell you...,” He tries again bu the words die again before he can voice them. 

 

Quiznak, who knew this would be so hard. He’s taken down Galra head on for five years and he can’t even tell his best friend how he feels. He sighs, taking a second to just breathe. He looks to Shiro, who is waiting patiently. He flushes, eyes flicking away again, but this time they land on Adam’s photograph, like a moth to a flame. Matt blinks, a lump settling in his gut. How can he stand here, in front of Adam, and disrespect him and Shiro this way. Don’t they both deserve better?

 

He puts on a smile he doesn't feel and clasps Shiro’s shoulder, “To be safe out there and if you need it, you have full command of the rebel fleet.” The lie is sour on his tongue.

 

“Oh,” Shiro replies, and Matt would swear he looks disappointed, “Thank you.” 

 

Matt can’t look at Shiro, so he lowers his head and starts to walk away, having said his peace but feeling even worse. Apparently, this Holt isn’t as determined as he thought. 

 

“Wait Matt,” Shiro calls, stopping him in his tracks. He turns to look over his shoulder but Shiro is walking towards him with a purpose. “Come back safe, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

Matt’s heart stops beating in his chest. Shiro has his arms wrapped around him, tight as if he let go, Matt would disappear. He raises his arms slowly, hugging back. They embrace longer than is socially acceptable but Matt let’s himself have this and maybe, having one regret won’t be so bad. 

  
  


\---

 

**Final Day :  0715**

 

Krolia inhales slowly, extending her arms out. She brings them in, releasing her breathe. Her eyes are closed and she is lost in the nothingness of her clear mind. The way she prepares for battle is the same. A light workout and stretching to loosen the muscles. Her role today will be to oversee ground troops, and hand to hand combat is unavoidable. 

 

Kolivan will be fighting alongside her and she finds her thoughts start to cloud. Opening her eyes, she looks over to where she can feel his presence. He sits across from her, his legs crossed and eyes closed in mediation. Her eyes easily find the small bandages still covering his body, still not yet healed from the explicit torture of the Druid, Macidus.

 

She bites her lip. Kolivan shouldn’t be fighting but his stubbornness and her pride stop her from saying anything. They both understand the warriors life, they’ve lived it long enough. 

 

“I can feel you staring Krolia.” He says out of nowhere, eyes still closed but posture relaxing slightly, “You worry?”

 

Krolia scoffs and looks away, indignant, “Of course I worry.” 

 

Kolivan hums, “Keith will be fine. He is a good warrior.”

 

Krolia doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking back to Kolivan. His posture has not changed, yet when she looks to his face, she sees he wears a small smile. As soon as Keith was with her again, she stopped holding back her feelings. It was no surprise to anyone that she loved Keith, and was proud of the man he had become.

 

Her worry didn’t just rest with Keith, however. Kolivan was always a strong warrior and lead accordingly. She admired his resolve and would follow him wherever he would lead. Finding him beaten and broken, hanging from the ceiling like a toy, lit something in her. She had a sudden primal need to want to protect him.

 

“It’s not just Keith I’m worried about.”

 

Kolivan eyes open at the bare truth of her statement and for the first time today, he meets hers. She feels exposed, like Kolivan is looking right through her, to the depths of her soul. He moves to stand and walks closer to her, his feet moving silent despite his size. Krolia stands as well, waiting for what happens next. 

 

He steps into her space, his battle worn eyes searching hers, a cascade of emotion behind their golden glow. She feels more than sees his hand move out of the corner of her eye, unable to actually look away from Kolivan. He rests it gently on her shoulder, before slowly moving along her neck into a gentle embrace. Kolivan lowers his head, his forehead leaning against hers. Krolia gasps in a breath and Kolivan whispers between them, “Is this ok?”

 

It’s a common Galra courting gesture, yet it is the most intimate among them. Krolia had felt the change between them but she didn’t think anything would come of it. Romance was difficult in their profession and Kolivan wasn’t someone that struck her as seeking affection. 

 

As for herself, thoughts of Keith’s father enter her mind like ripples in a lake. She has already accepted his death, and come to terms knowing that her heart will always beat for him. It doesn’t stop what’s happening between her and Kolivan feel like a betrayal. 

 

Keith had told her at his grave that all his father wanted was for Keith to be happy. With a comforting hand on her shoulder, he said to her, “Dad would want you to be happy too.”

 

Silently, as an echo in her mind, she thanks the man that gave her a purpose, gave her Keith. She promises she will never let go, but living in the past won’t give her the happiness he wanted for his family.

 

“Yes, this is okay.” She says under hushed breath between them and silently hopes they will both find each other after the battle. 

—

 

**Final day : 0730**

 

Colleen sets the plate down on the table with a soft  _ thunk _ . She admires her work. Everything is set up perfectly in a Golden Ratio. The cutlery is perfectly straight lying just so on the napkin under them. A mug of coffee, with just a splash of milk, sits off to the left the appropriate distance for optimal elbow to wrist movement. She takes a step back, scrutinizing her work one last time and uses the tip of her fingertip to move the butter dish just a smidge to the left. It’s been a long while since she has prepared breakfast for her husband, and when she’s satisfied everything is mathematically perfect from every angle, she calls for Sam. 

 

“Honey, breakfast is ready.”

 

Quickly, she takes her place at an empty setting next to where Sam will sit, carefully unfolding a crossword puzzle and pretends to be absorbed in concentration. Sam finally wanders out of the back room a minute later, eyes glued to the tablet in his hand. 

 

Today is an important day. One that will go in history as Earth’s last defense against the Galra. It will be Earth’s liberation, and Samuel Holt, her wonderful husband, will spearhead the attack with Voltron and Atlas. 

 

But more than just that. It’s also a day to celebrate life. The human race has overcome so many obstacles to get where they are today and Colleen is bursting at the seams with joy. She has never been more proud of what her family has achieved and out of the corner of her eye, she watches as Sam jellies his toast, eyes still roaming his tablet and she smiles to herself. 

 

She shimmies more comfortably in her chair, making a few scratch marks on her puzzle. She hums to herself, chewing the end of her pen in thought before turning to him.

 

“Sam, dear, what’s a four letter word for child.”

 

Sam looks up at her, brows furrowed. Colleen expects him to be a bit confused. She had never asked for his help before, using her own wits to solve even the most difficult of puzzles, but there is a first time for everything and besides, it’s all part of her plan. 

 

“Baby?” He says and she smiles innocently at him. 

 

“Oh, you’re right. Silly me.” She chuckles for added coy. 

 

Falling silent once again, the only sound in their room is Sam returning to his food, clinking his fork against his plate. She dares steal another glance, waiting for Sam to be completely distracted before turning to him once again. 

 

“The puzzle today is difficult,“ She starts, biting her lip and looking to Sam. He looks up at her, his eyes flicking to the game to catch a glimpse at what has stumped his wife, “What’s a phrase you tell your partner when you’re expecting?”

 

“Expecting what?” He asks, the statement going right over his oblivious head. Colleen smile tightens and she blinks in disbelief. Ok, so maybe she could have been more direct but it didn’t take him this long to figure it out the last two times. Perhaps she just needs to push him a little further along. 

 

“Expecting a baby.” She replies sweetly, leaning her head demurely on her hand as she waits for two and two to click in Sam’s head. 

 

“Oh, well I suppose a common phrase is ‘I’m preg--‘” 

 

_ Bingo. _

 

Sam’s fork clatters on the table and Colleen’s eyes widen at the sudden chorus of metal on ceramic. Sam has stopped blinking and Colleen is worried she put her husband in cardiac arrest. 

 

“Sam, talk to me, are you alright?”

 

“Colleen, you’re--are you sure?” Sam asks, his eyes imploring her own, slowly coming back down to Earth. 

 

“When have I ever  _ not _ been sure?” She says cautiously, unsure by his reaction. When she found out, she couldn’t believe it was even possible, but the idea had wormed its way into her heart. This baby was a chance to start again. She had missed out on years out of her children's lives and she while she was over the moon proud of them, she couldn’t help but feel deprived. Her and Sam had another chance. She wasn’t afraid of their ages, but she couldn’t have predicted Sam’s disbelieving disappointment. 

 

“How did this happen?” He covers his eyes with his hand, and it stings like a slap in the face. Colleen takes a sudden deep breath through her nose, trying to keep her disappointment at bay. Her eyes are searching, looking everywhere but at Sam, suddenly feeling very foolish. 

 

The next thing she knows is Sam has grabbed her in a bear hug, and has lifted her off her feet, spinning her. He is laughing and Colleen feels like she’s been flung from one extreme to the next. He places her down gently, a sheepish grin on his face. 

 

“Sorry, I should be more gentle.” He tells her, guiding her to a chair with a cheeky laugh.  

 

“You’re not mad?” She asks, confusion clear in her tone. 

 

“What, no! How could I be mad?”

 

“Sam!” Colleen throws herself into him, crying in relief. He holds her tightly, placing sweet kisses to her brow and when she looks up at him, there are tears in his own eyes. 

 

“I can’t wait to tell Katie and Matt.” A grin bright on his face and Colleen feels as if her heart will burst. 

 

—

 

**Final day : 0746**

 

Romelle gently pulls the brush through Allura’s hair, both women silent in their own musings. Her long mane is velvety soft in Romelle’s hands. Hair care was important in her culture and she wonders how it may differ from the Altea Allura knew. 

 

Except, for her, caring for another’s hair was an intimate process reserved only for close family or lovers. 

 

Romelle was neither to Allura. 

 

But knowing that they were the only two female Alteans left bridged a bond between them. It was up to them to keep their heritage alive. She hoped to teach Allura of the culture she grew up with and hopes Allura would be willing to do the same.  

 

Romelle grew up hearing of the legend of an ancient Royal family. It was a fantasy often told to children. The planet Altea had prospered under the rule of the family and the people were happy. They performed magics and built magnificat machines. All too soon the happiness was taken from them. There was a brutal attack on the planet and no one from the family survived. Yet, here sits the Princess of Legend and Romelle is preparing her for a grand battle. 

 

“Thank you, Romelle.” Allura breaks through the silence. Romelle looks up into the mirror and sees Allura’s eyes on her. She flushes and turns back to her work. The braid she is working on is intricate. One her mother taught her, that her grandmother taught her. It was a symbol of prosperity for future brides. Not exactly the right symbolism needed for a war but after today Allura may try to claim her right as Queen, and she would need all the prosperity she could get if she was going to unite the Alteans. 

 

“Of course.” Romelle says, biting her tongue in concentration. This part was always difficult for her to master. Two braids come together at the base while a third fishtail hangs down the center. It would be easier if she had four hands. 

 

“Romelle.” Allura calls gently. When she looks up this time, Allura’s eyes are downcast, fingers held tightly in her lap. 

 

“Yes princess?”

 

“When this is over, I’d like to bring the remaining Alteans together and continue my father’s legacy for peace. Coran will be a trusted advisor but I wanted to ask if you’d like to be my personal confidant.”

 

Allura doesn’t meet her gaze in the mirror, which is good because she is frozen in stunned silence. She closes her gaping mouth and turns her attention back to the braid. 

 

Romelle knows she doesn’t offer much to the team. She’s not a brave fighter and she’d much rather not go on anymore adventures. But this, taking care of the princess’ needs. That is a life she could find herself happy in. 

 

“I’d be happy to be your handmaiden.” Romelle tells her. Allura turns so suddenly the braid falls from her fingertips. 

 

“Not as a handmaiden. As my friend.” 

 

Romelle studies Allura, looking for the truth in her eyes. She looks past the Princess persona and the way he holds her head high and proud. What she finds startles her. Before her is a woman, who has lost so much and looks ahead to the future. To fight for peace, no matter the struggle or obstacles in her way.  Allura is not without her flaws but Romelle and Allura are more similar then she thought. Both have lost precious things and have fought for the sunrise of the next day. 

 

Romelle thinks of her brother and how he died in her arms. She wanted so badly to get vengeance but Allura and the paladins have shown her another way. She can keep her brother alive in her heart and by using that love to fight for what she believes in. 

 

Romelle smiles and takes Allura’s still clasped hands into her own. 

 

“As friends.”

 

—

 

**Final day : 0803**

 

The sounds of laughter around the table brings Lance back to before he left for the Garrison. Before Voltron and ten thousand year old wars. His cousins are chasing each other while his mother and aunt move about them with practiced ease. They bring with them all of Lance’s favorites foods. Veronica sits next to him, sipping their mother’s famous pineapple guava juice as her eyes skim a tablet. She has changed the most out of everyone. Where Lance is easy going, Veronica is obedient. Lance remembers hers as a girl not much older than him, the last to take a playground challenge head on. Now, catch her breaking the rules and she’d deny it and you’d find no proof. She is thorough in her executions of plans and confident in her knowledge to see them through. 

 

His twin sister Rachel sits across from them, munching absently on a slide of toast. She meets Lance’s gaze and even after the time he spent away they still have that psychic connection their older brothers would tease them for. Their silent communication holds Rachel’s worry for her brother and Lance’s reassurance that everything would be fine. 

 

“Mom, they’re doing it again.” His brothers Marco whines across the table. 

 

“Leave them be, mijo.” His mother cooes, rubbing Lance’s hair affectionately. Ever since his arrival, she has been especially affectionate and Lance eats it up. 

 

“Thanks, Mamá.” Lance tells her, earning an bright smile from her and a pinch on the cheek. When she turns, Lance sticks his tongue out at his brother and Luis kicks him under the table. Lance purses his lips in indignation but Luis smiles and shrugs. He could always count on Luis to stick up for him, then chastise him with no real mirth. He knew what it was like being the younger brother. 

 

Lance sits back, drinking in his family. Their faces, the atmosphere. It’s full of love and life. He never thought he’d seen them again, yet, here they are. Alive and breathing next to him. He reminds himself that he’s doing this for them. 

 

Lance sniffles and the chatter falls silent. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry but when he looks up and meets his father's eyes, the tears break. One moment he’s sitting at the table, the next everyone has thrown themselves at him. Hugging him fiercely and wishing him well. 

 

—-

 

**Final day : 0816**

 

“Ready, Coran?” Pidge asks from the top level of the simulation, overlooking the machine below. Coran stands in the middle, pulling his mustache with an inquisitive eye before throwing Pidge a thumbs up. She nods and prepares the device. 

 

The room starts to hum around them, and the projection surrounding Coran starts to shift. What once were bare white walls slowly change into bursts of color.

 

Pidge has the simulation to mimic a meadow. In a matter of seconds there are wildflowers and long grasses surrounding Coran. The sun's rays are wide in the artificial sky. The ground alters as well, and from where Pidge sits it looks like Coran is knee deep in the same flowers and tall grass mimicked from the walls. 

 

She smiles gently at his confused expression, suddenly going from a bare white room to one full of wildlife and flora. She can’t hear from where she sits in her overlook, but there should be birds singing and a cacophony of bugs. The sound of the wind blowing through the grass, bringing with it the rumble of thunder. It must must surprise Coran because he turns from one of the flowers he was examining to turn and look the other direction. 

 

Pidge hits a few buttons, turning on the illusions of lighting and clouds darkening the sky. She sets a timer so that in a minute the first drops of rain will fall. 

 

She runs from the overlook, rushing down stairs to make it in time. Pidge can see the rainfall heading slowly towards them in a gentle patter. Walking close to Coran, she offers him a reassuring smile. Taking a few more steps past him, Pidge spreads her arms out wide and closes her eyes, tilting her face to the sky. She takes a deep breath and it even smells like rain. 

 

The first few drops are cold and sharp on her skin but a giggle starts to bubble from her chest. The rain, how she’s missed it. She did this same simulation for the other paladins after they defeated Sendak, just trying to bring a little normal back into their lives. Lance was the most emotional but Pidge could tell everyone was having a hard time holding back tears. They were home. 

 

And while artificial rain wasn’t as good as real rain, it did the job. 

 

His laughter breaks out behind her and Pidge turns to see him spinning in circles like a child in awe. Coran approached her a few days ago, curious as to what the big deal was. She was glad to share this moment with him. 

 

“Number five, this is amazing.” He runs towards, picks her up and spins her. The rain is pelting them, and her clothes are soaked. It’s cold but Pidge’s chest is warm. 

 

Afterward, when they’ve changed and are enjoying the peaceful sunshine of the simulation, Coran turns to her. 

 

“Thank you Pidge.”

 

“Anytime.” She replies, then adds. “Maybe when this is all over, we can take you to see real rain.”

 

“I’d like that.” 

 

—

 

**Final Day : 0829**

 

Hunk finds Shay easily. She’s on the roof, watching the sun rise over the mountain ridge. She’s out here nearly every morning,  _ enjoying the sights,  _ she told him one day. He sits next to her, legs hanging gingerly over the edge of the building. They enjoy each other’s silent company before Shay turns her head slightly and glances his way. 

 

“I’m going to miss this.” 

 

“You’re leaving?” He asks surprised. 

 

“The balmera, it can’t stay. Eventually, it will alter the gravitational force of your planet, throwing your young galaxy into chaos.”

 

Hunk frowns. He knew this, of course. Everyone with half a brain knew this. He just hoped he had more time. 

 

“When will you be leaving?” He picks at a stray string on his glove, watching as it pulls apart slightly. Kinda like his time Shay, he thinks bitterly. 

 

“A few more sunrises, I think.”

 

They fall silent again, wrapped in their own thoughts. Hunk thought Shay and her family would be staying longer. She has opened his eyes to the wonders in his universe and she is a special friend. His family even welcomed her and her people with open arms and Hunk didn’t want to let go yet. 

 

“I want to thank you Hunk,” Shay tells him with a smile on her face, “You taught me to never give up. And look at me now, I’m enjoying the warmth of the sun on a planet light years from home.”

 

“Shay…” Hunk starts, overflowing with admiration for his friend. He can feel the tears welling in his eyes and he reaches out. They meet in a tight embrace, the sun rising on a new day as they cry into each other’s shoulder.

—

 

**4 days later : 1657**

 

Keith rubs a hand through his hair, finding his fingers get stuck in tangles and winces as he pulls a little to hard. It’s been a few days since the final battle with the Galra. A battle won with the help of many brave warriors. A battle won with lots of sacrifice. 

 

He’d be lying if he said he’d slept more than 24 hours in a 96 hour period. In fact, the only sleep he’s had is restless naps in between meetings, parties, more meetings and strategies to rebuild Earth, on top of spending all his free time in the hospital. 

 

“Keith.”

 

Shiro’s soft, comforting voice pulls him from his mind and he looks up at the Captain with feigned interest. This meeting is the last in a series but Keith has heard the same talk over and over, and he just wants to be where his mind is; in the hospital. In the chair that he’s spent so much time in, it’s starting to dent to his shape. 

 

“Yes, Shiro.” 

 

Shiro tightly smiles across the room, meeting the eyes of other dignitaries that keith’s hasn’t bothered to learn their names, trying to placate them through the interruption. His brother leans low, so only Keith can hear, “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. Is the meeting over?”

 

Shiro frowns, “No,” Keith hates the way his eyes linger on his matted hair, to the dark circles under his eyes before looking away in defeat, “I can cover for you if you want to leave.”

 

Keith nods eagerly. Yes, that’s exactly what he wants. He doesn’t need to be here. There isn’t much for him to offer except to keep the interests of the lions in the Garrison’s favor, but Shiro is more than capable of doing that and Allura won’t let them out of her sight. 

 

“Thanks Shiro.” He says and Shiro places a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. Keith can see the same worn down worry in Shiro’s eyes for Matt. He hasn’t had a chance to talk with Shiro about it, but when Shiro found out Matt was injured, well, Keith had never seen Shiro in such a panic. His brother hides it well, but Keith knows him enough to see his tells. 

 

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself.” Shiro says in parting and Keith lips raise slightly in a blank smile, a small  _ you too _ between them before he walks numbly out the double doors. 

 

On the other side, the hallway is brimming with life. Celebrations have been nearly non stop since their victory. Where one party ends, another begins. So many people are smiling and laughing in front of him, and he’s happy for them, he is. Except...his own happiness is lying unconscious in a hospital across the Garrison and he tells himself the bitterness settling in his gut is justified because of it.

 

He spots his mother not far down the hall, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and eyes closed. She has a few bandages across her arms and one across her cheek but she is otherwise unscathed. Keith admires her fiercely, and seeing her in action, leading the ground troops with Kolivan when the battle began, only intensified his opinion of her. 

 

“Mom, what are you doing here?” He asks, as he moves towards her. She opens her eyes slowly, smiling when she sees him. 

 

“I’m waiting for Kolivan.” She says, pointing her thumb over her should to a locked door behind her. Ever since Kolivan’s rescue, Keith hasn’t seen one without the other, his mother never leaving Kolivan’s side. It’s nice, seeing how she relaxes around the leader of the Blades.

 

His mother deserves a piece of happiness too. 

 

“So, should I start calling him Dad or…” Keith teases. Krolia’s eyes widen and Keith chuckles at the red tinting her cheeks. 

 

“Hey Keith!”

 

Lance’s voice echoes in the hall. He looks over, and Lance is waving him down with the arm not resting in a sling. Pidge and Hunk are with him, smiling and he says goodbye to his mother before he joins his friends. 

 

“Whatcha up too?” Lance says when he’s within earshot. 

 

“I’m on my way to the hospital.” He replies simply but the looks his friends share doesn’t go unnoticed. 

 

The atmosphere grows solemn, yet it’s Pidge that speaks up, “How’s James?”

 

Keith’s fists clench involuntarily at his side and he moves them behind his back hoping the others don’t notice, “Not well.”

 

It’s Hunk that pats his shoulder in sympathy with a weak smile on his face. They ask the same question everyday, yet it’s always the same answer. His eyes find Pidge, who’s looking down at the worn linoleum of the floor. It’s been a difficult few days for all of them. 

 

“And Matt?” Keith asks, voice soft but Pidge still shrugs her shoulders. He heard of Matt’s heroic sacrifice, saving Lance’s sister from a surprise incoming Galra ground fleet. Only, he had taken most of the damage.  

 

“He’s doing good but the doctors say the damage is permanent.” Lance answers for Pidge, eyes now boring holes into the ground. Keith understands it must be hard for Lance. If Matt hadn’t pushed Veronica out of the way, it would have been her in the hospital, or worse. 

 

“He has to wear an eye patch. He hated it at first but Shiro told him it makes him look like a pirate and now he finishes every sentence with  _ arrgh _ or  _ Matey  _ and I’m pretty sure he called Bae Bae a  _ scallywag _ in a moment of delirium.” Pidge exasperates. Lance and Hunk laugh, their happiness infectious and a small smile breaks on Keith’s face. 

 

Their happiness is a breath of fresh air under the smog of sadness he’s been living under since their battle against Haggar. He’s glad that his friends are sharing moments of peace. Grateful that they’re alive, that their loved ones are alive. He’s even excited for Pidge, who recently found out she’s going to be a big sister. 

 

Yet he finds himself wishing he could truly share their happiness. His heart is so bogged down with worry that he can’t really bring himself to the same level as them. 

 

Hunk takes this moment to clap Lance on the back, carefully avoiding his broken arm, “I should go. I promised Shay I’d meet her before she leaves.”

 

“Yeah, see ya buddy.” Lance replies and the trio watch as Hunk walks away. 

 

“I should be going too.” Keith says, not wanting to waste anymore time. He wants to get to the hospital as soon as possible. 

 

“You should be going to bed,” Lance instigates, “You look like shit.” 

 

“Yes, thank you Lance.” He deadpans, quite aware of his appearance. He offers a weak smirk in return however, knowing that Lance’s worry comes from a place of friendship as he walks off. He rolls his shoulders to shrug off the lingering looks he can feel on his retreating back. 

 

He passes a small corridor, where Allura, Coran, and Romelle whisper delicately. He heard from Shiro that Allura wants to take her place as Queen and continue her desire to see the universe at peace. She hasn’t made an announcement but he can’t help but notice the Alteans have an air about them, one that suggests they won’t be staying long on Earth. He respects their choice, and he knows they will see each other again. He walks past, leaving them to their discussions. 

 

Keith finally,  _ finally _ , makes it to the hospital wing and he takes a breath to prepare himself. He nods to the check-in nurse, who doesn’t even ask him for his clearance card anymore. 

 

“Was there any change while I was gone.” Keith asks before he follows the familiar corridor to where James’ room is. 

 

“Nothing, Mr. Kogane.” She replies and it’s a relief and a curse. At least James didn’t wake up without Keith, but hell if he didn’t want him to just  _ open his eyes _ . 

 

James’ room is bright with the rays of the setting sun sneaking through the blinds when he enters. They hit James face, illuminating his pale skin. His heart squeezes in his chest and the far off memory of his hands on Keith’s skin before the battle burns like a ghost on his body. It feels like he just saw James, alive and warm under him. Seeing him lay comatose, with wires and machines hooked up to him, sours his stomach. Keith can barely make out the way his chest rises and falls when he breathes it’s so slight. 

 

“I’m back.” He says, pulling the shades down to dull the light in the room before bringing up the extra chair to James’ bedside. The movements are familiar now, part of his subconscious. He gently takes James’ hand in own, mindful of the IV. The heart rate monitor beeps a soothing melody to Keith and for a moment he just stares. 

 

“I saw mom on my way here,” He tells James quietly, “It looks like I might be calling Kolivan dad soon.” He chuckles, pretending for a moment he was retelling a story, “Pidge, Lance, and Hunk are in high spirits,” Keith pauses, as if he were waiting for a response. There is only the steady  _ beep, beep, beep _ of the monitor, “They said Matt is doing well but he’ll be blind in his left eye.” He tells James before his face falls. 

 

“He’s a hero.” Keith whispers, his eyes falling to the way the sheet folds at his waste, unable to look at James’ face, the shame making him feel unworthy. He swallows hard, and fights back the swell of emotion threatening to overflow in his chest, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” 

 

The admission sits heavy on his shoulders and his hand squeezes James’. 

 

The memory of James’ accident is burnt into his brain and it’s the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes. He watched helplessly from Black’s cockpit as James’ ship was shot out of the sky. He remembers screaming James’ name and turning Voltron in his direction. He remembers how the flames grew as James’ ship exploded. Keith remembers how his heart leapt into his throat, choking him and how he desperately wished it were him instead. 

 

Kosmo had saved James. Teleporting in and finding him among the rubble. Keith assumes James had ejected at the last second but didn’t get away far enough to avoid the explosion. He found James crumpled in the desert sand. 

 

“James, I…” 

 

Keith shakes his head. He’s not sure when it happened, when things between him and James changed, when he became something Keith knew he  _ had _ to have in his life. As natural as day turning to night yet vicious like fire, it consumes him. It’s new yet familiar, in a way that he didn’t realize when he was younger. Keith always held something for James that bloomed when they were kids. What started as a rivalry slowly morphed into something akin to mutual respect. Once Shiro left and then pronounced dead, he pushed everyone away and closed every door, telling himself he would only look forward. If Shiro wasn’t around, what was the point? James tried to talk to him but Keith spiraled out of control, lost to his own grief. His only focus was Shiro. He had given Keith a life, and Keith owed him the same. James and the Garrison became a distant memory that settled like dust. 

 

But when they returned to Earth, and James had reconfigured himself into Keith’s life, that door unlocked and what he hid behind it spilled out and overwhelmed him. 

 

It was like rediscovering a good book. Nostalgia and excitement, despite knowing how the story ends. Keith may not know how his story will end, but he wanted to share as much of it with James. He wasn’t sure if that was love. But he had never felt anything like what he feels with James and he couldn’t--He  _ won’t _ imagine his life now without James in it. 

 

Seeing James lie in bed, fragile and pale, covered in burns and bruises and his leg--his leg  _ gone _ ripped Keith’s insides to shreds. And he was powerless.

 

He could save Shiro a hundred times over, but he couldn’t save James. 

 

It was a bitter pill to swallow. 

 

He was tired of this feeling, of sparks threatening to light in his chest. It was like reliving losing Shiro a fourth time and Keith? He’s exhausted. His life has been full of loss and for once he just wants to not feel like he’s being squeezed too tightly. 

 

“Please wake up.” He pleads as his voice breaks in a moment of impossible heartache but James doesn’t flinch. He takes James’ hand into both of his, leaning on his elbows on a free space at the edge of the bed and he prays for the first time in his life. 

 

To anyone that will listen. 

 

Hours later Keith is walking the thin line between sleep and awareness, fighting to keep his eyes open. His body puts up a hard fight, but his mind refuses to give up. The further he can be from the nightmares, the better. 

 

There is a quiet whisper Keith imagines and he groans. Sitting up, his back cracks from the hunched position he’s in. He yawns and stretches cat-like in his chair. His mouth is dry and it’s when he moves to get up for water that he feels eyes on him. 

 

He pauses, eyes immediately drawn to James. His eyes are open, and they rest on Keith but he isn’t sure James is actually  _ seeing _ him. 

 

“James?” He whispers, hope causing his voice to crack over his name. Recognition blooms in James’ eye at Keith’s voice and the corners of his lip rise minutely. 

 

“Keith.” James croaks with barely any sound. Keith stands quickly, the chair almost falling backward in his haste to get up. He sits gingerly on a small space on the bed, giving James the physical affirmation that it’s really him as much as he needs it for himself. 

 

“I’m here, James.” He assures, voice soft to not break the dream he’s living. 

 

“My leg hurts.” 

 

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Keith insists, choking back a sob because he most definitely won’t be okay. Nearly all of James right leg had to be amputated and Keith knows that it will be a difficult journey for him to accept. He has already contacted the best doctors and therapists left alive on Earth and Shiro has agreed to help where he can. Keith has made sure his disability is one less thing James will have to worry about. 

 

With a small groan, James rolls his head and his eyes close. They stay closed and Keith thinks he’s fallen back asleep but they flutter a moment later. 

 

“What happened?” He whispers delicately. 

 

“You were in an accident.”

 

A coughing fit overtakes James and Keith stands to rub James’ back as his cough eases and helps him lie back down, resting his head back gently, fingers lingering longer than necessary. 

 

“Careful, my boyfriend’s the leader of Voltron. He’s a hero.” He teases and Keith feels a small weight lift off his shoulders at James’ jest. He moves away for a second, filling a cup with water and to help himself keep his emotions in check. He helps James take a sip before putting the cup down on the table. 

 

Keith sobs a laugh in a careful reply a few moments later, “I’m no hero, I couldn’t save you.” 

 

Silence fills the room and Keith looks up to find that James has fallen back asleep. He takes his seat, holding James’ hand in his own and places kisses to his knuckles. 

 

It’s going to be a long night. 

  
  
  
  


_ One year later _

 

Keith rolls over in bed, snuggling closer into James. He’s been up for hours, sleep evading him. Even in the peace that followed the war Keith finds it hard to completely relax. He’s subconsciously waiting for an alarm to blare, to signal an attack, and he’s thrust into a battle he doesn’t know he’ll make it out of. 

 

James pulls tighter on Keith’s smaller frame, mumbling nothings under his breath as he sleeps. Keith smiles softly, gently gliding a finger across his forehead, pushing his long dark hair out of his face. He tangles his legs in James’, used to the way the cool metal of his prosthetic feels against his skin, scooting even closer. Angling his head just right, Keith’s ear sits just over James’ heart. He closes his eyes, finding comfort in its strong steady beat.

 

“You’re up early.” James says between them, voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to tickle along his back, fingers following the curve of his spine. He moves back slightly, to take in James’ face. His eyes are still closed but there is a sweet smile on his lips. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

 

James opens his eyes at Keith’s admission, worry etched into his features, “That bad?”

 

“No worse than usual,” he replies and bites his lip, “Do you remember the morning we fought Haggar?” He asks in what he hopes is an offhand way, and not one that betrays that he’s been stewing on this for days. 

 

James nods, moving himself and Keith more comfortably. Keith goes with him, settling down on his chest as James stretches out on his back, moving the arm not currently wrapped around Keith over his eyes. 

 

James later told Keith that he was embarrassed he broke down the way he did under the pressure. Yet, although Keith told him it was fine and he had nothing to be ashamed about, James still carried residual feelings about it so Keith lets him hide. 

 

“I told you to find me after, that I would tell you what I wished for.” He says, tracing small patterns over James’ stomach and revelling at how his muscles jump when Keith passes over a sensitive spot. 

 

James moves his arm, fixating his gaze upon Keith. His eyes are bright in the darkness of their room and Keith feels exposed. James maybe his partner, but Keith still has trouble expressing himself, preferring to show his emotions through actions not words. 

 

“And what is that, bobcat?” James whispers full of affection and at the endearment Keith has a sudden desire to hide. He wants to turn away. It’s too much, James is looking at him expectantly, but patiently. 

 

Keith chews his lip again, hoping James can’t see how flushed he knows his skin is in the dark. He lifts his head instead, chastely kissing James to give himself more time to answer. James’ hand moves to take his chin between his fingers, deepening their kiss and Keith hums. In these moments, the ones they create that are full of serenity, is what Keith lives for. It’s what gets him out of bed in the morning, what he longs for when the day is tough, and what he melts into at night when the day ends. 

 

James’ hand gets lost in his dark hair and Keith feels how he absently twists Keith’s hair around his finger. He pulls away before things get too heated between them, using his fingers to stop James from chasing his lips. 

 

James whines, “Aww, why did you stop?” 

 

“Because—“

 

“Because you’re a tease?” He interrupts with a breathy laugh. 

 

“Because I love you.” Keith declares and now that the words are out, they possess him, and he tells James everything he’s kept inside, “Because I can't imagine my life without you. Because after all this time, my wish is to stand by your side.”

 

James looks as if he is caught in too bright headlights, eyes wide and mouth agape. Keith starts to feel the doubt build in his chest, thinking maybe he was a little too forward. This is exactly why he doesn’t talk about his feelings. He can’t articulate words like Lance, or be sincere like Hunk. Pidge even gets by with her savvy tech jargon and people love her for it. The only person who was able to see through his rough exterior and read what he doesn’t say is Shiro. 

 

James is learning his tells but even he needs a hint every now and then. Keith wants to spare him any doubt, however, by spelling it out clearly. Making sure he knows exactly where Keith stands but now his heart beats loudly in his ears and his nerves are shot and James still hasn’t responded. 

 

Keith watches as James’ mouth opens and closes, like he doesn’t know what to say and this is not the reaction Keith was expecting. He blinks a few times, eyes settling on the junction where James’ neck meets his chest and he swallows. 

 

A soft hand is gently lifting his face and James is staring intently at him. Keith sees the way his eyes move steadily over his face, drinking him in before meeting his eyes. 

 

“I—, Keith, I love you too.” 

 

Keith’s breath leaves him in a relieved exhale as James’ confessions sends his heart into the clouds. His forehead falls into James’ chest and Keith starts to laugh, giddy and unrestrained. James joins him a moment later, and Keith imagines they must look silly, laughing together in the dark, naked under the light of the moon pouring in between the window shades. 

 

But for once, he’s found his happiness and he’s not letting it go. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm always on [ tumblr](http://kunfetti.tumblr.com).


End file.
